


falling for you

by Chokingonholywater



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Flashbacks, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, i dont do oneshots much but!!! take it, trust me this is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chokingonholywater/pseuds/Chokingonholywater
Summary: Secrets have never been Michael's specialty, but there's one that he's kept for years now.And it always comes back to his stupid fucking glasses.





	falling for you

Jeremy threw his controller down, flopping backwards onto his beanbag chair with a dramatic sigh. 

Michael glanced at him, a grin appearing on his face at his best friend's antics. He shook his head slightly, but set his controller to the side as well.

They were sitting in front of the tv in Michael's basement, playing Apocalypse of the Damned. The words "game over" flashed on the screen; they had just been swarmed by a horde of zombies before they could clear the level. 

Michael reached into one of the bowls near him, grabbing a handful of the popcorn inside. He popped it in his mouth as Jeremy let out a second, longer sigh, flinging one arm over his face. His eyes were screwed closed, a comically exaggerated look of anguish on his face. 

A laugh bubbled up from Michael's gut and he tipped his head back, letting it ring out. "Jeez, Jer, you really are a theater kid," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. Jeremy cracked one eye open and made a sound of indignation, but Michael just laughed again.

"What's with the dramatics, though?" he asked, resting his head in his hands. 

Jeremy gave yet another sigh. He pulled his arm away from his face and turned his head so he was looking at Michael. Michael looked back at him expectantly. 

" _This_  is what's with all the dramatics, Michael!" Jeremy exclaimed. He shoved his wrist into Michael's face, yanking down his cardigan sleeve. 

Even though Michael had to go a little cross-eyed to focus on it, he could still read the cursive text on the inside of Jeremy's wrist. It was the same three words that it had always been, an abruptly ending fragment of a sentence: "Hi, my name's—". The black lettering stood out starkly against Jeremy's pale skin. 

Jeremy yanked his arm away, settling back down onto his beanbag chair. "It's just like, yeah, okay, we aren't  _that_  old, but there's already people who've found their soulmate! Hell, Rich and Jake found each other freshman year," he scowled. "I just wish I could find them already. But no, of course, their first words had to be something stupid that, like, everyone says as their first words!"

He huffed as he pulled the sleeve of his cardigan back down. "It's just - you know I've always been a little doubtful about this whole soulmate thing since my mom split," he muttered, glancing at Michael out of the corner of his eye. "I know it's lame to be so worked up over it but like, what if I never meet my soulmate? Or what if we meet and never know it because of how vague our first words are? Or," he added, blanching, "what if  we meet and they just don't like me?" 

Michael frowned slightly. "Hey, dude," he said, leaning over to punch Jeremy lightly on the arm. "Don't freak, okay? I'm sure you'll figure it out, and they're gonna love you - who wouldn't?" he added. He shot his best friend a brilliant grin, trying his best to reassure him. 

Jeremy gave a weak laugh. "Yeah, guess so." He was silent for a few moments, then he let out a frustrated groan, slamming his hand down on the beanbag. "But I mean -  _ugh!_ I'm sick of not knowing!" He crossed his arms with a huff, then turned to glare accusingly at Michael. "How are you so chill about all of this? Doesn't it bother you?" 

Michael turned up the corners of his mouth in what he hoped was an easy smile. "Nah, man, when it's meant to happen, it'll happen," he said, nodding sagely. 

"Yeah, yeah," Jeremy grumbled. "Wish I could be more like you about the whole thing."

Michael laughed, but his heart was pounding. He gripped the edges of his sleeves tightly, pulling his hoodie securely down over his wrists. It was just a nervous habit he'd developed whenever Jeremy talked about soulmate stuff, because it usually always lead to —

"And you  _still_  won't tell me yours?" Jeremy pouted, poking him in the side. 

"Nah, man, that ruins the magic," Michael laughed, giving his fingers a wiggle. He hoped Jeremy would stop asking about it, but of course he kept pushing.

"I know I saw it when we were kids! I just...don't remember it..." He trailed off, his face screwed up in concentration. 

It was true - Michael and Jeremy had been friends for twelve years, so of course Jeremy had seen the words on Michael's wrist at some point. He hadn't seen the words in nearly four years, though, since Michael had started wearing his hoodie all the time.

"Too bad, Jer," Michael grinned, praying that Jeremy would drop it. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jeremy did. 

"Whatever. I'll remember someday!" he declared. "Until then, wanna play some more?" he asked, jerking his thumb towards the television. 

"Hell yeah!" Michael exclaimed. He snagged his controller as Jeremy restarted the level, getting ready to plunge back into the fray.

They settled into a familiar rhythm of zombie smashing. It was safe - no talking involved, besides the occasional yell of "zombie!" or "watch out!". Michael liked it when they talked, but he appreciated the moments like these, too, because they were easier. There was no stress about secrets or lies or excuses, and the pit in his stomach that always formed when Jeremy talked about his soulmate disappeared. 

Michael tried to push all thoughts of soulmates out of his head as he and Jeremy made their way through the level. He didn't want to ruin the night by being worked up over something that he'd decided long ago should stay a secret forever. 

He took a breath, expelling the very idea of soulmates with his slow exhale. He was going to have a good night, damnit, because he needed it. Keeping a secret like this was exhausting, and being with Jeremy was the best part of his day. He wasn't gonna waste it. 

They played for an hour more, laughing and yelling as they worked their way through horde after horde of zombies. They ate junk food and made dumb jokes and did nothing at all, and it was perfect. Time flew when they were together, no matter what they were doing, and before they knew it, Jeremy had to go home. 

"Hey man, I gotta go," Jeremy said, pausing the game. He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. Michael stood up too, raking a hand through his hair. 

"Oh! Yeah, okay," he said, checking the time. "Wanna hang out at the park tomorrow?" he suggested. 

It had become tradition to meet up at the park a few times every month. They'd been going there since they were kids, but they'd started going on their own when their parents both decided the two of them didn't get enough "fresh air". They'd complained at first, but now their ritual of sitting on the swings together or strolling around the park had become something both of them looked forward to. 

"You know it!" Jeremy said, holding a hand up for a high five. 

Michael raised his own hand without thinking, slapping Jeremy's hand and swinging his arm down to high five again at the bottom of the loop. He tapped his ankle against Jeremy's, completing the handshake they'd been using since they were in the fifth grade. 

Jeremy gave Michael a grin as he pulled away, grabbing his backpack from where it sat. He yanked it up over his shoulder and Michael trailed behind him as he walked towards the door. 

They made their way upstairs in comfortable silence. Jeremy sat down to pull on his Converse, his hair falling onto his eyes while he looking down to tie his laces. Michael felt the urge to brush it out of his face. Instead, he said, "Usual time?" 

Jeremy shot him a confused look, so Michael stumbled to clarify.

"For the park!" he added quickly, a light heat rising in his face. Jeremy didn't notice 

"Oh! Yeah, of course," Jeremy said, standing up. He brushed his hands off on his jeans and pulled his bag back over his shoulders. 

"Usual time. See you tomorrow!" he said, grinning. He gave a small wave as he walked out the door, sending Michael another smile over his shoulder as he walked down the driveway. 

Michael stood in the doorway until Jeremy disappeared around the corner. He closed the door softly, shutting his eyes. It was so,  _so_  dorky, but he couldn't help the soft light that he felt in his chest every time he and Jeremy hung out. It lingered even after he left, making Michael feel like there was a warm blanket around him. 

He figured it probably had something to do with — no. He cut off that train of thought before it could get started. He knew that if he let himself fall down that rabbit hole, he wouldn't be able to claw his way out now that he was alone.

With a soft sigh, he turned away from the door and went back to the basement. Michael spent the rest of the night trying desperately to distract himself and never quite succeeding. Even as he drifted off to sleep, Jeremy was the last thing on his mind. 

* * *

_12 years earlier_

The sun was warm and soft, a bright blue sky shining above. There was a slight dew on the grass and it tickled Michael's ankles as he ran across the field towards the swing set. 

He was wearing his favorite shirt, the one with the rocket ship, and he had his brand new light up sneakers on. They'd bought them just for today: his first day of kindergarten. Michael didn't really know what that meant, but his mom had bought him those cool blue shoes for it, so he was happy. She'd given him a big hug after she walked him into school and then it had been a whole new world. Michael had never seen so many new things at once, posters on the walls and toys all around and so many new people! 

It had been a little overwhelming at first, but they'd colored some pictures and sang some songs and now they were getting to play outside. Michael liked it, he thought, even if he really didn't know what "it" was. All he knew was that the nice lady in charge let them play outside, and he was  _so_ ready for those swings. 

He let out a giddy laugh as he sped towards the swing set, eyes set on the one he wanted. When he was just steps away, he looked to his side — and stopped. 

Sitting at the picnic table by himself was a boy wearing a striped shirt, sunlight catching in his brown curls. He looked down at his hands, swinging his short legs as he sat. Michael gave a small frown before making the split second decision to head his way. His mom always told him not to leave people out, and anyways, this boy could be a new friend!

A bright grin appeared on Michael's face at the thought and he changed direction, starting to sprint towards the table. The kid noticed him a few seconds before Michael got there, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Michael waved one arm in a bright greeting as he ran. "Hi! My name's— _ah_!" 

Suddenly, the world was turning upside down and Michael tumbled face first to the ground. His new sneakers, the traitors, had slipped on the dew, and he found himself in a heap on the grass.

The grass tickled his face and Michael realized that everything was blurry, and he felt tears start to pool up in his eyes. He'd scraped his knees on the ground on the way down, and they were burning now. Just as he started to sniffle, he heard someone say, "Here's your glasses."

Michael looked up, hiccuping slightly. He rubbed his watery eyes and saw someone standing above him. He snatched his glasses from them and shoved them onto his face. 

"Are you okay?" 

It was the boy from the picnic table. Michael sat up quickly, peering up at him. 

"I'm okay," he said tears forgotten. "My name's Michael," he added, smiling brightly upwards. 

The boy stared at him for a moment, then sat down on the grass softly next to Michael. He crossed his legs and looked down at his hands, ripping out little fistfuls of grass. 

"I'm Jeremy," he said quietly. 

Michael watched him as he continued to shred up pieces of grass. He was wearing a blue shirt with a fire truck on it and his hair was curling up, messy in the way that all little kids' hair was. His eyes were trained on the ground then, but Michael had liked the bright blue color of them, and he decided that he liked Jeremy's curly hair, too. Michael decided that he just liked Jeremy.

And with that, history was made. 

"Hey, wanna be my friend?" Michael asked suddenly, looking at the boy next to him with wide eyes. 

Jeremy froze, a clump of grass still gripped tight in his tiny fist. He peered up slowly at Michael, his blue eyes wide as saucers. "You wanna be friends?" he asked, blinking slowly.

Michael smiled. "Yeah!" he replied. "We can play on the swings and watch TV and eat snacks and all kinds of things!"

There was a pause. Jeremy's mouth pursed in a tiny frown, deep in thought. Then he said, "Okay. Let's be friends."

Michael clapped his hands together. "Yay! What do you wanna do?" he asked, bouncing excitedly. "Wanna go on the swings now? Or we could sit here," he added seeing how Jeremy looked a little taken aback.

"Oh, um, we can go swing," he said softly. He didn't move though, so Michael stood up first. He offered Jeremy a hand and pulled him up, leading him over to the swing set. 

* * *

The dream slowly began to bubble apart, like a faulty film strand burning to a close. Michael frowned in his half asleep state, not wanting to leave that sunny afternoon. As much as he struggled, it still slipped away from his grasp until all he was left with was the memory of the dewy grass tickling his cheek. 

He opened his eyes with a soft sigh. The clock on his desk said that it was just after 8:30 - pretty early for Michael. He could feel the pull of going back to sleep, but it was distant. Muffled. As nice as it sounded, Michael knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again.

He never could, after that dream. 

He'd started dreaming about the day he and Jeremy had met when he was in seventh grade. It had just been a random thing, a one time dream of a long forgotten memory - or so Michael had thought. 

After the first time, he hadn't dreamt about it again for months. Then there was a month gap before the next iteration of the dream. Then just a few weeks between the dreams.

Now, he woke up at least twice a week with the feeling of friendship glowing in his chest and the ghost of sunshine on his skin. 

Michael hadn't known what to make of the dream for the longest time. Until seventh grade he hadn't even been able to remember how he and Jeremy had met - the fact that the memory had been hidden away somewhere in his mind was baffling. 

The fact that he now knew every detail of the memory, from the shade of blue in the sky to the exact way Jeremy had first said his name, was even more baffling. 

Michael reluctantly sat up in bed, giving up any lasting hope of returning to sleep. He stretched his arms up over his head and held them there, his mouth opening into a yawn. Goosebumps prickled on his skin at the sudden exposure to the cool air and he gave a slight shudder. 

After a moment of deliberation, he pushed back his sheets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The basement floor was cool against his bare feet when he put them on the ground. 

Michael padded over to his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a pac man t-shirt. He pulled open another drawer and snagged a clean pair of boxers. Then he headed across the basement towards the bathroom, figuring that he might as well take a shower if he was already up. 

He peered at his reflection in the mirror as the water heated up, examining his messy hair and uneven skin. His acne had never been terrible, but it had been a constant presence here and there since middle school. He scrutinized his face, wondering what it looked like to other people. 

He hoped it didn't look as strange to them as it did to him. 

As the shower heated up, mist began to creep over the mirror until Michael could no longer see his reflection. With a sigh, he tore his eyes away from his foggy form and pulled off his slept-in clothes. 

Stepping into the shower, he gave a sigh of contentment. The water was the perfect temperature: not too hot and not too cold, just enough to coax away the morning chill. He enjoyed the feeling of the water pouring over his skin, pleasantly warm and steady. Michael nearly fell asleep under the stream, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. 

Jolting back to reality, he gave his hair a quick wash and stepped out of the shower. Immediately he was assaulted by cool air and his skin bristled in the chill. He hurried to pull on his clothes, running the towel over his hair to wick up the excess water left in it. He hung up his towel and walked back into his bedroom.

Glancing at the time, he saw that it was -  _shit!_ He'd spent way more time in the shower than he'd meant to, and he'd have to hurry through breakfast if he wanted to be to the park on time. 

Yanking his hoodie off of the back of his chair, he quickly tugged it over his head and swiped some deodorant on. He ran his fingers through his wet hair as he bounded up the stairs two at a time, sliding into the kitchen. 

Michael pulled open the cupboard and grabbed a bowl, reaching on top of the fridge to get a box of cereal at the same time. He poured a quick bowl and grabbed a spoon as he spun towards the fridge for the milk. 

He sloshed some milk into his bowl and plopped the spoon in, replacing the carton and closing the fridge door in one fast motion. He ate his breakfast at rapid speed, almost spilling mushy spoonfuls of cereal on himself more than once. 

By the time he finished the bowl it was time to go. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and set the bowl in the sink to take care of later. He sped down the hall and jammed his feet into his sneakers, grabbing his keys from their usual place by the door before opening the door and heading outside. 

The morning was crisp and clear, a bright blue sky already shining above. It felt almost like the dream.

Michael shook his head. This wasn't the place to dwell on his weird dreams. Instead, he hopped into the driver's seat of his P.T. Cruiser and jammed the key into the ignition.  Pulling out of the driveway, he sped down the street towards the park. 

It was a short, uneventful drive, and Michael breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into the small parking lot - 9:57. He had three minutes to spare. 

Even though it was just Jeremy, Michael decided to at least make an attempt to fix his hair. He'd run out of the house in such a rush, he was sure that it had to be a mess. He flipped down the visor and looked into the mirror with a grimace - yeah, it was pretty bad. He didn't have a comb, so he tried his best to use his fingers to shape his hair into something palatable. 

It took some serious maneuvering, but after a while it finally looked like Michael had his life under control. He gave a dorky wink to his reflection and flicked his eyes towards the clock on his dash, then did a double take. The cheesy grin slipped off of his face: it was 10:02.

"Oh, shit!" Michael exclaimed, slamming the visor back up. He shoved open the car door and hopped out, pushing it shut behind him. He clicked the lock button on his keys as he ran, hoping that no one would steal his car. As he neared the playground, he could see Jeremy sitting at a picnic table waiting for him. Michael sped up, grinning and waving as he approached. 

He opened his mouth to yell hello. "Hey, I'm h— _shit_!" 

Michael's untied shoelace had gotten caught under his other foot and sent him toppling to the ground. He threw out his hands and slammed into the ground, his glasses sliding off of his face on impact. The grass was cool against his cheek, and he could hear Jeremy laughing off to the side. 

Michael took a quick mental check and found that everything was fine, then went to sit up. A mock angry retort was on the tip of his tongue when he lifted his head and saw Jeremy standing there, and it died on his lips. 

"Here's your glasses," he laughed, holding them out to Michael. 

Michael just stared up at him, filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of deja vu. It was too familiar, the way the light caught in Jeremy's hair, the blue sky over head, the grass tickling his arms, the blurriness of the world without his glasses -  even the words Jeremy had said. It was almost like he was back in his dream. 

Apparently, Jeremy felt it too, because he let out a soft, musical laugh as Michael snatched his glasses and jammed them back onto his face. 

"Isn't this, like, exactly what happened when we first met?" he asked, grinning. Michael felt his face go warm - he hadn't thought Jeremy had even remembered that - but Jeremy didn't notice. Instead, he said held out a hand to help Michael up. Michael grabbed on, Jeremy's hand warm in his own, and pulled himself to his feet. 

As he stood, Jeremy continued, hand still in Michael's grip. "I think I might've actually said the same exact... thing...then..." He trailed off slowly, staring at Michael. His eyes were wide, and a pink tint flooded his face. "Oh.  _Oh._ Oh my god," he said, staring at Michael. He let go of his hand abruptly and took a small step back.

"Jeremy? Jeremy, dude, what is it? You're scaring me," Michael asked, stepping toward him. He reached out his hand but Jeremy shied away from it like it was toxic. 

"Seriously, Jer, what's going on?" Michael asked, growing frantic. He'd never seen Jeremy get like this before, and he didn't like it. What was this about? Was there a spider on him? Was he bleeding from the fall? Was it some weird kind of prank? No, Jeremy wouldn't do th—

"Your sleeve," Jeremy said softly, interrupting Michael's panicked thought. 

Michael looked down, confused, and then he saw it. His sleeve was pushed up. It felt like someone had just taken a sledgehammer to his chest. He felt the air rush out of his lungs as he stared at his wrist, the words written there seeming to scream at him: "Here's your glasses".

Michael looked up at Jeremy, heart pounding, but he wouldn't make eye contact. His shoulder were hunched, eyes trained on the ground. His fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly on his brown locks.

"Your sleeve," he repeated softly, still refusing to look at Michael. His voice wavered slightly as he said the words. 

Michael felt his heart shatter. 

Of course Jeremy would put it together! He remembered how they met just as well as Michael did, and now the big secret was out. What Michael had tried so hard to hide since he pieced it together in middle school was finally out in the light of day, and everything was breaking apart before his eyes. 

Jeremy would want nothing to do with him - already wanted nothing to do with him, Michael mentally corrected himself, watching as Jeremy fidgeted with his hair. Why would he want to be soulmates with  _Michael_? Michael was just a loser, a stoner, drove the world's shittiest P.T. Cruiser to school. He'd lied to Jeremy for years, and now Jeremy knew it. 

Not to mention that Michael was totally, truly, deeply in love with Jeremy. 

It was all going to shit, now, though, and none of that mattered - not Michael's stupid crush, or his dumb attempts at hiding it. All that existed was Jeremy. Jeremy who wouldn't look at him. Jeremy who couldn't stop tugging at his hair. Jeremy who looked so on edge that it made Michael ache. 

Michael had to stop himself from moving towards Jeremy again. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breathe, trying to think of what he should say. He couldn't think clearly, could only feel a deep hollow feeling in his chest and the pounding of his own heart. He opened his mouth to explain, to say something, to say  _anything_ that might fix this.

"I'm so sorry," Michael said quietly. He saw Jeremy's head twitch towards him minutely, and he took that as a sign to continue. "I don't mean to lie to you - or, okay, I did," he amended, "but I didn't want to. I just didn't want to ruin our friendship." Michael looked at Jeremy, but he made no move to respond, so Michael kept going. "I put it together in seventh grade. I started having these dreams about when we met. It took a few times for it to sink in," he explained. "Soon I got it, though. What you said to me in that dream, about my stupid fucking glasses? It was on my wrist, and I knew that my dumb, half-finished hello was on yours." 

Michael could feel himself getting frantic, but he didn't care. Jeremy still wouldn't look at him, and he was so desperate. His heart was aching, a physical pain that coursed through him like acid. Michael needed Jeremy to understand, to say it was okay - or at least, to look at him. And then suddenly the words were pouring out of him, flying off of his tongue and shoving their way up his throat unbidden, tripping over one another to get out and be heard. 

"And I knew I couldn't tell you because who'd want to be soulmates with me? You always talked about how you wanted to find your soulmate and it killed me - do you know how much I wanted to just tell you? To just scream out, 'It's me, I'm right here!'? Because I wanted to, oh god, I wanted to," he said, feeling his eyes start to prickle. "But you were worth so much more to me than any stupid soulmate bond, I couldn't lose you. I couldn't tell you because what if you didn't want me to be your soulmate? What if all you wanted was some pretty girl who you could marry and have a family with? No, it was better to be best friends because then at least I could be with you, and yeah! It was selfish! But god, is it so wrong that I want to keep you? The fucking universe says that we're supposed to stick together," he held out his wrist, hand shaking.

"So please just - just look at me, Jeremy," he pleaded, voice breaking. 

Jeremy did look up then, eyes wide, a window straight to his soul. Michael saw emotions swirling in their blue depths - hurt, anger, and confusion, yeah, but also what might've been affection. Michael prayed that it wasn't just wishful thinking. 

"It's..." Jeremy began, pausing to take a breath. "It's a lot to take in." 

Michael's shoulders fell. That basically meant it was all over. He felt the tears swimming in the edges of his vision, threatening to spill over. "It's fine if you - if you don't wanna hang out anymore," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"What? Michael - oh god, Michael, no," Jeremy exclaimed, moving towards him. His eyes widened even further when he say the raw pain on Michael's face, and then he was crushing him into a hug. 

"I didn't mean it like that," Jeremy muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of Michael's hoodie. "It just - it really is a lot to take in," he said, turning his face so he was looking at Michael. "But of  _course_  I don't wanna stop hanging out! We're soulmates, idiot," he laughed, giving Michael a gentle shove.

Michael tried to smile, but it came out like a watery grimace. "Are you sure? Because god, I kept this from you for so long, I wouldn't blame you if you hated me, and I know you really wanted a good soulmate and —"

"Michael Mell," Jeremy said, crossing his arms. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" 

Michael sputtered to a halt, then tried to get back on track. "No, god, of course not, it's just —"

"Then shut up," Jeremy said, giving Michael a light punch on the arm. "You're stuck with me, okay? Even if this is weird, and yeah, I'll be honest, I'm annoyed that you - that you kept this from me, but we'll figure it out. We always do."

Everything seemed to be glowing to Michael. As he listened to Jeremy speak, his chest filled up with something soft and warm and oh-so grateful until he felt like he was going to explode. Jeremy didn't hate him. He didn't want to leave. Everything was going to be okay. 

He was pulled out of his thought by Jeremy beginning to speak. "It could've been anyone, but it's you. We've already been friends for what, twelve years? I should've known," he laughed. "We basically do everything together anyways," he teased.

Michael let out a weak laugh. The pair sat in silence then, staring wordlessly at the black ink that bound them together. 

"Y'know, I'm actually glad it's you," Jeremy said a moment later. He reached out for Michael's hand and turned it over, flipping his wrist up. He lines up the lines of cursive on their inner wrists, putting them side by side. 

The sight made Michael's heart skip a beat and he was suddenly overcome with the realization that things were really going to be okay. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders now that he didn't have to hide this from Jeremy, and he'd never felt better. Even if this hasn't been how Michael would've wanted him to find out, it all turned out okay

Jeremy was willing to stick with him, and that was enough. Even if Michael's love was one sided and they were just best friends for the rest of their lives, that was more than enough. His feelings could wait, could wait forever as long as he could take on the work at Jeremy's side. 

"Yeah," Michael said slowly, leaning his shoulder up against Jeremy's. The warm glow of hope filled his chest and shined through in the smile on his face as he spoke.

"I'm glad that it's you, too." 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! this was written for cat, who deserves lots of good things and not too much stress ♥
> 
> stay tuned for next time, and hmu on tumblr [here](http://choking-onholywater.tumblr.com) in the meantime!


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